


Truck Stop

by valis2



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-27
Updated: 2010-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valis2/pseuds/valis2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's working at a truck stop, repairing diesel engines.  A blond truck driver stops in for refueling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truck Stop

* * *

Another day, another paycheck.

Nick grimaced as he tightened the bolt. It _felt_ stripped, even though it had gone into the nut just fine. Sure enough, another turn made it spin. _Fuck._

"Trouble?" Max came into view, holding a service clipboard. "What is it?"

"Another ten minutes, that's what." Nick drew out the bolt and caught the assembly before it dropped. The nut hit the floor with a metallic sound. "Damnit. Listen, these bolts are shit. They're--"

Max rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Ryder, I know. I told you yesterday I placed another order."

"From--"

"From a different supplier. Yes." She exhaled, giving him one of her patented looks. The kind that said, _I have to get this rig out the door now and you better stop messing around._

"Look, I'll try one more bolt." He jabbed the air with a finger. "But I'm not responsible if this thing fails on the highway. The speeds these guys travel and the--"

"Vibration. Yeah, I know." She jotted down a note. "Try _three_ more, and that'll take you to the end of the paid time, okay? And report back to me."

Which was later than she was scheduled. "Davey'll appreciate it," said Nick.

"He better _pay_ this time," she called out as she walked back out front.

Nick pulled out another nut and bolt and set the assembly in place, straining to sink the bastard in right this time. Again, the bolt stripped. _Fuck._ Stepping back, he wiped his forehead on his sleeve and cursed, out loud this time.

"Hmm?" asked Murray, wheeling into view from under the Kenworth he was working under. "Did you say something?"

"Uh, no, Murray." Nick tried to paste a smile on his face. "You're working late tonight, huh?"

"Late?" From beneath his baseball cap with the orange Murray's logo, Murray blinked owlishly at him. "What time is it?"

 _About time for Gloria to come swooping in._ "Six. After six."

"Oh, dear." Murray wiped his hands on his pants, failing to notice that they were even greasier than his hands. "I lost track of time." He brightened. "Did you know that the average signal switch on a tractor weighs--"

"Murray?" Gloria's voice carried through the cavernous space of the shop. "Murray, are you there?"

"I'm right here, sweetie," sang out Murray, getting up from his creeper. "I'm sorry, I kind of lost track of time..."

"Yes, I know," said Gloria. Her spotless red outfit stood out in vivid contrast to his oil-stained jeans and shirt. "Tonight's that play I was telling you about. We really need to go." She turned to Nick. "Don't forget to pick up your paycheck. I left it up front with Carla."

"Don't worry," said Nick. "If there's one thing I won't forget, it's my paycheck."

"Good. Your commission's on track." She gave him a smile. "And thank you for taking on Mr. Booth's International."

"Yeah, well, I might start regretting it if I can't get these crap bolts to hold," said Nick frankly.

She checked her watch. "Speaking of time, we have just enough time to get home and clean you up, Murray. Ready?"

"Of course, my dearest," said Murray. "Though I should really check the air pressure to the shop oil pump--"

"Max took care of that earlier." She put a gentle hand on his arm and led him away.

"See you tomorrow, Nick!" called out Murray as they reached the door that led into the service lobby.

"Sure, have fun," answered Nick. He pulled out another bolt and held the assembly in place. It stripped again.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that he just barely had enough time to sink the third one. Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to put everything else back together so Davey could get back on the road tonight. Plus, if he went over, it started stretching his flat time out. He sighed and pulled out the last bolt. Saying a quick prayer, he again held the assembly and put the bolt through the mount and into the nut. Tightening it carefully, he held his breath.

It didn't strip. He sighed in relief and set to work. Another half hour, and he had it all together, and the rig roared to life when he turned the key. _Might need a new set of glowplugs, though._ He drove it out of the bay and into the lot, and took the keys up to Max. Davey was sitting in the lobby, looking completely anxious.

"All done," said Nick. He handed Max the keys and his badly smudged copy of the work order.

"Thanks." Max started flipping through pages. "Listen, can you close up back there?"

"Hot date tonight?"

She snorted. "Yeah, with my jacuzzi. Thanks, Ryder."

"Sure thing." He went back into the shop and closed the open bay door. At the shop sink, he scrubbed his hands, trying to get rid of the grease. It took two rounds of Lava soap. Even still, there were black stains in his calluses that were impossible to clean.

He checked the rest of the bays and back doors. He turned off the light in the parts room and closed the door and locked it. Making his way back up, he stopped at his workstation and cleaned up the counter, tossing the stripped bolts in the scrap metal pile. His latest set of sockets from Snap-On Tools sat, still in their plastic case.

The radio, which had begun playing Bob Seger, abruptly shut off. _Max must have finished with Davey._ He took one last look around.

The shop was only a little cluttered. Gloria liked it to be as clean as possible, and a steady stream of shop helpers--mostly high school kids--kept the floor swept and the work surfaces wiped down. It was a good shop, not like that crappy place he used to work at. Murray's was an old-fashioned truck stop, an oasis for drivers of all kinds, and Murray and Gloria were a good team. Gloria ran the money and the scheduling, and Murray tinkered with the problem tractors, while a couple techs--Nick and a surly guy named Quinlan--did the rest of the jobs.

It was steady work, and Nick had always had a way with diesel engines. Max was a good service manager, good at communicating between the customers and the techs, though her work orders weren't always detailed enough for Gloria's tastes. Nick went back up front, closing the door to the shop and locking it. Max and Davey were flirting a little as Davey forked over his cash.

That made him think of Bobby Henson, and he felt a pang in his heart at the loss, which he still felt, even after a year. Shaking off the ache, he smiled at Max. "All locked up."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Max glanced over at him, clearly eager for him to leave.

"Sure." He yawned and made his way out into the convenience store. The shop held its own financially--well, barely--but the convenience store was the real reason for Murray and Gloria's $300,000 home and their nice cars. It was a bustling hub of activity, a large, well-lit store full of candy, cigarettes and Coca-cola. They'd even won an award for Best Truck Stop from the California Trucking Association.

At the counter, Carla was busy. So was the other girl, whose name he kept forgetting. Carla was the store manager and was the only one there with access to the safe, which meant he'd be waiting until she was free for his check. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Say, you're him, aren't you?"

Nick turned to see Hank, one of the regulars, talking loudly to a guy who'd just come in from the truck pump entrance.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," said the stranger.

"You're the one!" Hank looked delighted and went up to shake his hand, pumping his arm with abandon. "You're the crazy sonuvabitch with the racquet!"

"Racquet--oh." The stranger grinned, and Nick's heart stopped in his chest.

The guy was _gorgeous_.

Heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

Sandy blond hair, a full moustache, a beautiful tan--and shockingly blue eyes. He moved closer.

"I saw you!" crowed Hank. "You were playin' tennis against your van. Tennis!"

"You have to do something to keep in shape," said the stranger smoothly.

"Tennis!" repeated Hank, completely oblivious to the stranger's glance at his large beer belly. "Never saw anythin' like it before. And that tractor you're driving--nice Mack."

"She always gets me there." The stranger grinned.

"Name's Hank," said Hank suddenly, shaking the stranger's hand again. Noticing Nick, he called out, "Hey, Nick, you gotta meet this guy. He plays tennis against his trailer! Damnedest thing you ever seen!"

"Nick," said Nick, shaking the stranger's hand.

"Cody," said the stranger. This close, he was even more gorgeous. Finely chiseled features, eyes that reminded him of a vivid ocean, and jeans that were so tight they looked like they were painted on. Nick felt the first stab of lust heat his groin.

"Great to meet you." Nick eyed him for a moment longer, admiring the broad shoulders and trim waist. "Tennis, huh?"

"Yeah." A faint flush appeared on his cheeks, and Nick almost thought he'd imagined it. "It keeps me awake."

"Gets the blood moving, hey?" said Hank, clapping Cody on the arm. "I gotta calendar of Anna Nicole Smith, does the same thing." He grinned conspiratorially.

This time Cody blushed noticeably.

Nick wanted to say something witty, funny, but he just couldn't stop staring. Cody met his gaze, and an electric shock of heat suddenly passed through him, sending a wicked throb of pleasure to his cock. _Oh god, not a hard-on. Not now._ He swallowed nervously.

And then he realized he could see the same heat in Cody's eyes. Cody shifted, as if his jeans were too tight, and the move made Nick light-headed. It had been forever since he'd been attracted to someone. _Really_ attracted to someone. The heat that filled his veins was like top-shelf liquor, and he could feel his face flush.

"...and I knew some guys who played a game-a horseshoes sometimes. But tennis. You play in high school?" Hank looked at Cody.

Cody blinked, as if he was coming back to earth. "High school? Uh, no. And actually, I was playing racquetball, not tennis. Different ball. And...ah...different racquet."

"Racquetball? What the hell is that?" Hank's face screwed up into a confused expression.

"Hank, it's almost six-thirty," called out Carla.

"Oh, damn, gotta call the missus." Hank shook Cody's hand again, and then Nick's for good measure. "Nice talkin' to ya'both." He made a beeline for the bank of payphones next to the coolers.

Cody and Nick stared at each other for a moment. "Do you know where the restrooms are?" asked Cody.

"Sure, yeah." Nick led him down the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck. _He feels it too, right? I mean, I saw it in his eyes. But what do I say? What if I make a move and he takes off? Or maybe he's in denial, and he'll take a swing at me..._ He frowned. _He doesn't seem like the type. And I can take him, if I have to._ He blushed again as the double entendre occurred to him. "Right here." They were alone now, the smell of disinfectant in the air, the tiled floor slick from its recent mopping.

Cody stood still, looking at him, his eyes mesmerizing. "Thanks."

 _Oh, fuck it._ Nick lunged forward, capturing Cody's lips against his own, pushing him against the wall and kissing him as fiercely as he dared. Cody made a surprised noise, and nearly slipped, but then regained his balance and gave as good as he got, lips hot and soft against his own, the moustache prickling. Nick's cock was so hard now that it was almost painful, trapped in his jeans, pulsing hot against the cotton of his underwear, and he could feel Cody's erection against his own. Cody made a breathless noise and broke apart.

They both stood there, panting.

The lust was burning in Cody's eyes, hot and sharp. "Can we--"

"C'mon," said Nick urgently. "The shop..." He turned, knowing that Cody was following him. They went through the store and he unlocked the door to the service lobby, which was dark. Carla didn't even notice; her line was even longer than it had been.

Once they were both in the shop, he locked the door behind them and gave Cody another urgent kiss. He was on fire, wanting nothing more than to touch, to lick, to rub against him, but he knew they had to get farther in the room. Cody kissed him, and together they stumbled toward his workstation, lit by a fluorescent counter light. "Is this where you work?" asked Cody, his blue eyes catching the dim light. "You're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, a tech." He caught Cody's lower lip between his teeth, and licked at it, slow and gentle, and Cody made a noise in the back of his throat that made Nick want to do it all night.

A hand popped the buttons on his fly, and there was a quick brush of cold air before Cody's fingers latched around his cock, stroking hard and fast. It was almost too intense. Nick gasped and then whined, the rasp of Cody's calluses against his skin setting up a strange friction, but it wasn't unpleasant. It seemed to set his nerves on fire.

He didn't think his cock had ever been harder.

Cody was licking his jawline now, pressed up against him, and Nick was caught between him and the counter, weak-kneed as Cody's hand continued to stroke. The sensations were building quickly, quicker than he thought was possible, and Cody had made his way to his ear, sucking on his earlobe with an intensity that made him moan. "Cody..." he said softly. "Oh god, I'm not...I'm not gonna last..."

"Go on," urged Cody, his breath hot in his ear. "Come for me."

His balls tightened, and he barely had the breath to groan as his cock became the center of the universe, exploding with ecstasy, pulsing out wave after wave of come. Cody's hand slowed down, now gentle, and Nick panted, his brain empty of everything save the amazing orgasm he'd just had. "Damn." He blinked and shook his head, and Cody pulled his hand out of his pants and wiped it on his shirt.

Another kiss, and Nick could feel how desperate Cody was to come. He was overwhelmed by the desire to touch him, to taste him, and he knelt down and unzipped Cody's tight jeans, pulling down his white underwear to reveal a monster of a cock. Hot and hard and thick, the velvet skin gorgeous and red in his hand, emerging from a neatly trimmed patch of golden-brown fur. Nick licked the shaft lightly, and Cody sucked in a breath, one hand grabbing his shoulder for balance. "Nick..." said Cody, his voice needy.

Nick took the tip in his mouth, working his tongue around the head, delicately stroking, and Cody made a desperate noise behind clenched teeth. _God, I want to hear him. I want him to scream. I want to hear him lose it._ He gave a few more teasing licks, and then wrapped his mouth more fully around his cock and sucked. Cody grabbed his other shoulder, too, and closed his eyes, and Nick started sucking in earnest, moving back and forth, relishing the slightly salty taste, the slick feeling against his tongue. Cody moved his hips, thrusting, and Nick backed off, which made him whine in frustration.

 _Want this to last._ If this was the only time, then Nick wanted to enjoy every moment. His lips closed around the silky hard flesh again, and he set up a steady, slow rhythm, letting his tongue slide close every other stroke. Cody's hands tightened on his shoulder, and his jaw was clenched tight. Nick let his hand wander under Cody's shirt, feeling the hard play of muscles. _Damn. He's in really good shape._ He swirled his tongue around the head, and suddenly Cody pulled out.

"Something wrong?" asked Nick.

Cody's eyes were glazed and there was a wild look on his face. "I want you. I want you..." His hands slid underneath the waistband of Nick's jeans and grabbed at his ass. "Please, Nick. Please." He seemed to come back to himself. "I mean...would that be okay? Do you have...something?"

"Just lube," said Nick regretfully. It was like a shock of cold water to the face.

Cody pulled out his wallet. "I have a condom..."

Nick grinned and reached into one of the drawers of his worktable, pulling out a half-full tube. "We're in luck, then." Cody fumbled with the wrapper. "Uh...look, it's been..."

"Huh?" Cody looked at him.

"It's been a while." Nick tried to keep his tone casual. "Just...go slow, okay?"

Cody responded with a blistering kiss, one so hot and feral that Nick's cock twitched. They broke apart, and Cody rolled the condom on, his hands shaking. It was one of the most erotic things Nick had ever seen, the strong tanned hands gliding up his cock, the latex gleaming.

Another kiss, and Nick was as good as gone. He was barely aware of Cody turning him around and the tug on his jeans. Hot hands roamed over his ass, nails lightly scraping, and he shivered in anticipation. The lube was warmer than he expected, and Cody's fingers were gentle, circling his entrance, teasing. His cock was already half-hard. _This is crazy. Like I'm nineteen or something._ A finger slipped inside, and Nick forced himself to relax. Another finger, and Cody took his time, gently stretching, rotating his fingers, and Nick moaned breathlessly before he could stop himself.

"You're so tight," said Cody softly. "So tight and so hot. I want to fuck you so bad."

"Yes," said Nick, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. His brain was completely divided between his stiffening cock and the fingers in his ass. Cody added another finger, and brushed against his prostate, and Nick bit back another moan as a surge of heat went through his cock.

"Can't wait," said Cody, and Nick felt the hot tip of Cody's cock poised at the entrance. "Please, Nick..."

"C'mon," growled Nick.

The burn was more than he remembered, but whether it was because Cody was big or because it had been a long time, he had no idea. Cody made a noise in the back of his throat that went directly to Nick's cock, and he was so hard now he could have hammered out a dented fender if he had to. Cody kept pushing in, inch by inch, and the burn began to fade, and it felt so good that he groaned and said _fuck_ a few times.

"Yes," said Cody. "I'm...I'm going to fuck you and... _unh_. You feel so _good_." He began to move, thrusting in and out, his movements long and careful.

"More," said Nick. "C'mon. More."

Cody gave another moan and responded, his strokes getting faster, and it felt so good. Nick closed his eyes, both hands on his work counter. _If anyone came in right now..._ He imagined how shocking it would look, Nick Ryder, jeans down around his ankles, being fucked by a gorgeous stranger who hadn't even taken his own pants off. He could feel the denim against the back of his thighs. He imagined what it looked like, that incredible monster cock driving into him, how he was braced for dear life, his cock rock hard, moaning in abandon as he was plowed.

The feelings intensified, and Cody was hitting his prostate with each stroke, hands gripping his hips. He was making these beautiful little grunts with each thrust, hips snapping, and Nick whimpered as the white-hot heat began to grow. His balls were tight, and he was so close, his cock dripping pre-come. Cody's strokes suddenly went wild. "Nick-- _unh_ \--"

It was his name that did it, and Nick came with a cry, his cock fountaining again against the front of the workstation, Cody coming hard behind him, still thrusting wildly, hands slick with sweat. "Nick...ohgodohmygod--" Another hard stroke, and then Cody stilled, lying against him. Nick could feel his ribcage expanding and contracting, could feel the shudders as his orgasm slowly wound down.

Cody finally caught his breath and backed away, and Nick found that he couldn't stand on his own. Cody grabbed him and they slid to the floor in a tangle of sweaty limbs.

Panting, Nick let his head rest against Cody's shoulder. His heart raced, pounding madly in his chest.

 _I just had sex with a complete stranger._

Well, maybe not a _complete_ stranger. He knew his first name, at least. And it wasn't just sex. It was mind-blowing, incredible sex, the best he'd ever had.

"Are you okay?" Cody looked down at him, worry on his expression.

"Never..." Nick shivered. "Never better. That was..."

"Amazing." Cody's tone was awestruck, and Nick was intensely relieved that it was as good for Cody as it had been for him.

"Yeah." Nick's ass was against the cold concrete floor, and he tried to shift a little.

"Nick," said Cody, and Nick was struck by the sudden vulnerability in his face. "I've got...I mean, my tractor is..." He trailed off.

"Cody?"

"I've got a double sleeper," said Cody in a rush. "And I don't have to be anywhere for eight hours. And I thought that maybe...I mean, if you've got someone--somewhere to go, I'll understand." His eyes were suddenly shuttered, and he looked away.

"Cody, man, no," said Nick happily. "I don't have anyone. And I've got eight hours. More than that, even."

Cody's answering grin was brilliant.

His answering kiss was even better.


End file.
